


what was said to the rose

by okapi



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, POV Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Sweet, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26198020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okapi/pseuds/okapi
Summary: Exiled in a cave during a storm.Nicolo/Yusuf. First time fluff.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 20
Kudos: 259
Collections: Season of Kink





	what was said to the rose

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a 'thank you' to all the lovely ficcers and visual artists who are creating Nicky/Joe content. I am smitten with these two. Title from a Rumi poem.
> 
> For my 2020 Season of Kink bingo O-5: oral fixation.

Nicolò’s first thought was that the cave was a Garden of Eden, but, no, the metaphor was not apt. There wasn’t a speck of anything green, anything growing anywhere.

Then he decided that it was more like an Ark, providing shelter from the raging storm without. He and Yusuf were the first and only pair of animals herded aboard.

In one sense, a very important sense, Nicolò and Yusuf were like, kindred creatures, enemies turned itinerant traveling companions by their shared state of not being able to die by any hand, their own, each other’s, or anyone else’s.

But in many other ways, they were polar opposites.

Yusuf picked up bits of languages like a girl might pick wildflowers and put them in her hair (He had done that, too. Nicolò pretended not to notice but was secretly charmed). Though Nicolò often didn’t understand Yusuf’s words, he slipped from dialect to dialect like a fish, he was rarely confused.

Yusuf was reciting poetry. Yusuf was telling a funny story. Yusuf was admiring the landscape. Yusuf was mumbling the broken words of a song while he sketched. Yusuf was grumbling about the weather as he was in that moment, standing at the mouth of the cave, looking out at the storm.

Day by day, as they traveled, Nicolò’s feelings for Yusuf softened, and his trust in him grew.

The crocodile had been a watershed moment.

When Yusuf hadn’t returned to their makeshift camp, Nicolò became worried. He discovered his companion naked crouched in a tree beside the bank of the river. The sight was so farcical that Nicolò laughed, his first full-bellied laugh since their truce.

Nicolò didn’t laugh long. The crocodile ate him.

Nicolò woke to Yusuf’s handsome brown eyes, teared with anxiety and unspoken pleadings. Everything hurt, but Yusuf’s words were so comforting, so sweet, Nicolò closed his eyes to savour them for a moment.

“No, Nicolò, no!”

Nicolò murmured an apology. He turned his head to see a slain reptile lying beside him.

He couldn’t help it. He laughed.

Yusuf’s expression changed like a summer sky, and they laughed together, chests, whole bodies, vibrating with wild mirth.

Nicolò realised that he felt safe in Yusuf’s arms, and that night, after supping on braised crocodile, they began to sleep side-by-side.

Yusuf and Nicolò were not the first to find the cave, but vestiges of former occupation were very old. It was warm and dry, and the ceiling was possessed of a natural slope with fissures which carried the smoke of the fire up and away.

Nicolò did not know how just deep the cave was. He and Yusuf had explored, tethered hand-in-hand, weapons clenched in their free hands, as far as they dared. Nicolò had come to the realisation that if otherworldly creatures such as himself and Yusuf existed, then why shouldn’t dragons?

Yusuf teased him about this, but he did not loosen his grip on Nicolò’s hand as they made their way back, back, back into the cave. Finally, they gave up, turned round, and returned to the fire.

Nicolò was crouched by the fire. Yusuf was standing by the entrance, watching the rain.

Nicolò took advantage of their positions to openly study Yusuf.

He was beautiful.

Nicolò didn’t know what to do with the feelings which kindled inside him. At times he wondered if Yusuf felt the same, but other times, he convinced himself that it was just Yusuf’s manner to be warm and loving and considerate when, of course, he wasn’t doing battle.

Nicolò was so lost in his own musings that he didn’t realise he’d knocked Yusuf’s pack. Yusuf’s sketchbook slipped out and tumbled to the floor of the cave; two unbound sheaves slid out.

Nicolò gasped.

He’d never asked to see what Yusuf was drawing. He’d instinctively assumed it was private, like scribblings in a diary, and if Yusuf wanted Nicolò to see, he would’ve show him. He never did.

But now Nicolò saw. It was him, Nicolò, or rather one part of him.

His mouth.

On one sheaf, about a dozen reproductions of his mouth. Half-open, half-smile, smirking, resting slack and open as if in death, lips pursed as if in thought.

“Yusuf?”

Yusuf made an angry noise. He snatched the drawing from Nicolò’s hand and threw it into the fire.

Nicolò watched with horror as it burned.

Yusuf scooped up the other paper, which Nicolò saw was a sketch of his whole face, contorted in laughter, and made to consign it to the fire, too, but Nicolò grabbed it.

“No!”

Yusuf shot him a glance.

Nicolò took the drawing and slipped it beneath his tunic over the left side of his chest.

He held it there and shook his head.

Yusuf searched Nicolò’s face, and for the first time, Nicolò did not try to hide his feelings.

“Nicolò?”

Nicolò replied by pressing the drawing closer to his heart. He tried to smile. Then he reached out and took Yusuf’s hand and brought Yusuf’s fingers to his lips. 

Yusuf closed the distance between them and crushed Nicolò to him. Nicolò melted in the warm embrace. Then he pulled back and looked up.

Yusuf was just looking at him like a man in love. He brushed his thumb across Nicolò’s bottom lip and sighed, almost helplessly.

It was not easy to render Yusuf speechless, and Nicolò allowed himself a moment’s pride at the feat.

Then their lips met.

They kissed while the fire crackled, while the rain poured, while the cave held its ageless secrets.

The dam broke, and Yusuf began to pour out all the poetry, all the song, all the beauty inside him.

Nicolò allowed himself to drown in it. It was, he thought, much like the rain.

* * *

Dawn sent tendrils of light into the cave.

Nicolò realised he’d slept with Yusuf’s drawing plastered to his chest and Yusuf himself plastered to his back. He peeled the sheaf away from his skin and discovered the image smudged beyond recognition. He made a noise of dismay.

“Don’t worry,” said Yusuf in a low rumble. “That is only the first of thousands.”

Nicolò smiled and let the sheaf fall as he rolled towards Yusuf. He felt Yusuf’s hardness pressing into him, but his companion displayed no sense of urgency in doing anything about it.

Nicolò began quietly, “I want to…”

Suddenly, Yusuf was fully awake and wide-eyed. 

Nicolò let his eyes travel down Yusuf’s body, then brought his eyes to Yusuf. “Show me?” Nicolò raised an index finger to Yusuf’s lips and made a licking pantomime with his own mouth.

Yusuf groaned. “Yes, yes, yes…”

Nicolò slid down Yusuf’s body and proceeded to reproduce every act that Yusuf committed to his finger upon Yusuf’s cock. 

Yusuf would pause in his demonstration only to shower sweet encouragement upon Nicolò’s head and pet him.

Yusuf pulled Nicolò off at the last moment, and Nicolò watched the streaks decorate Yusuf’s bare belly.

Nicolò unfurled his tongue and lapped up the mess.

“You are going to kill me, Nicolò,” panted Yusuf.

But they both knew that this was a lie. The days of killing each other were over, and the days of loving each other had just begun. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you comment, please be kind.


End file.
